


I'm Not Getting Over It This Time

by thejapanesemapletree



Series: Male Byleth and Female Byleth Twins AU: Max and Mini [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (Male Byleth says Trans Rights), (and uses Sign Language), (side Male Byleth/Seteth because my brain is bigger than the game limitations), Alternate Universe - Twins, Arguing, Children of Characters, Dimitri has become a dad, F/M, Male Byleth and Female Byleth Twin AU, Post-Canon, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejapanesemapletree/pseuds/thejapanesemapletree
Summary: Dimitri returns home with an injury. His wife is not pleased....AU where Male Byleth and Female Byleth are twins, but now live with their husbands after the events of Three Houses.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Male Byleth and Female Byleth Twins AU: Max and Mini [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178354
Kudos: 21





	I'm Not Getting Over It This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Maxima is Female Byleth from my save who married Dimitri, and Regulus is Male Byleth from my boyfriend's save who didn't marry Seteth but wanted to. They are identical twins (Regulus is trans): Regulus is like normal Byleth with the Sothis powers and chill personality, while Maxima is very mean lmao

Dimitri edged open the oaken door. Having shrugged off his rain-drenched cloak, he could slip into the bedroom quietly by the light of a candle, the summer night too hot for a fire—stickily and unbearably so. The stone walls of the room kept the air cool here, however, and Dimitri almost felt relief.

Weary from travel, he wanted nothing more than to fall atop the bed covers and sleep. Now in the cool air, he noticed the damp state of his tunic, and he moved quickly to shrug it off before approaching the bed.

A cradle rested at the foot of the bed, and Dimitri paused by it momentarily. In the dim light, Dimitri could just see the pale outlines of a small face, sleeping soundly. Dimitri placed an affectionate hand on the infant’s chest before a voice spoke.

“Oh—You’re back.”

Dimitri looked up to the bed. Behind the tucked drapery, Maxima stared at him, propped on the pillows with an open book on her stomach. The candle was hers, lighting her bedside, and Dimitri watched the dance of the flame reflected in her eyes.

Dimitri stood straight. “I had hoped that you would be asleep.”

“Of course I wasn’t.” Maxima snapped the book closed and placed it on the bedside. “I was _worried.”_

Dimitri had the instinct to apologize, but the words died in his chest. He watched Maxima as she dropped from the bed and approached, tinges of hostility in her squared shoulders. She stopped before Dimitri and frowned, her eyes roaming his bare torso.

“And it looks like I had every right to be,” she snarled.

Maxima gripped his hip bone in one hand, eyes focused on the gauze wrapped around his stomach. Dimitri did not know if his heart jolted from the sensation of her fingers on his skin or some long-trained instinct of warning. He remained still as he watched Maxima scowl, still centered on the wound dressing.

“What is this?”

“It’s nothing,” Dimitri found himself too quick to say. “A graze from a javelin. It will heal, in time.”

“I had to hear from _Gilbert_ where you went—to fight bandits with Sylvain.” Maxima bared her teeth again. “I waited for hours for you to come to bed, only to get up and find out you had left _without telling me.”_

Dimitri’s heart pinched. He had felt awful about that since his departure, so he placed his hands on Maxima’s shoulders, willing her to look at him.

“I am sorry, beloved,” he said gently. “I did not wish to leave without your knowledge, but Sylvain required my assistance urgently, so I had to leave with nearly no preparation.”

Maxima did not turn her gaze to him, however. Instead, she squeezed his hip tighter, hard enough that he felt her finger pads digging into his bone, giving Dimitri another thrill.

“Without _me.”_

“You are in no state to go out into battle.” Dimitri’s throat felt hard, so he swallowed. “You know that.”

Maxima huffed, bitterly. She pulled away from Dimitri’s hold and turned her back to him, crossing her arms under her breasts. Dimitri suspected it was from her chest being tender there, but he had no time to contemplate it as she spoke again.

“You have no business getting in any scrap you come across, either, and _you_ know _that.”_

Dimitri sensed the danger now: a prickling in the air. He waited as Maxima cast a glance back to him, and waited as she returned to glaring at the wall, seeing the storm in her eyes.

“You’re a father now. You can’t take unnecessary risks.”

Her tone dredged a spark of anger from his heart, enough that his senses heightened. He dared not approach her, as he knew she could whirl on him faster than a snake striking, nor did he desire to hurt her despite his upset. As so, he remained where he stood facing her back, bothersome as it was for conversation.

“It is my duty as king. I cannot leave my subjects when they need me, nor dismiss friends who need my aid. Wouldn’t you have done the same, were you able?”

Maxima’s shoulders hunched, and she suddenly whipped around, rage in her eyes. Now, as many other times, he felt as if he had brought a torch to battle a dragon, with her wrath like flames that could engulf his ten times over. She did not approach closer, but she did lean forward and snarl.

 _“That’s_ your logic—that _I_ would have done something so reckless, so you should too?” Realizing her words, her face flushed before she went back on the offensive, hands balled at her sides. “Maybe I would have before, during the war, but now I have those I _have_ to come back to.”

Dimitri knew her as the woman who scaled palace walls amongst a nest of archers in order to throttle the Death Knight, but he also knew the danger of mocking the irony of her, of all people, chastising him for being reckless. Nevertheless, he felt his body flush in anger, enough so that he did not check his tone.

“I am the _king—_ it is my _duty_ to bring peace to the kingdom,” he growled. “I must be the agent, the weapon, so that others may live in peace. What I do is not frivolous, and I expect you to understand that.”

His words came darkly, and grief assailed him as soon as they finished. If Maxima had suddenly struck, flying at him like a harpy, he would not have blamed her. Yet, she merely stood, her eyes worse than any strike that wounded his flesh. Her fists unfurled, but that somehow made it all the worse.

“Dimitri,” she said his name like a curse, and old, wretched emotions apparated in his chest. “Let me be clear with you. Ariel needs you, not just as a king, but as his father to guide and love him, and when I agreed to have him, I _expected_ that you would live long enough to care for him. I _expect_ that you will not put yourself in harm’s way unnecessarily, like battling a group of bandits yourself, and I _expect_ that you will come home every night to a family that loves you deeply. I _expect_ you not to put words in my mouth, and I _expect_ you not to speak for my emotions. _Are you so determined to die before me?”_

She shouted her last words, and the sound woke Ariel. He began crying, softly, and Dimitri glanced briefly away from Maxima’s horrible expression to the cradle. Every fiber in him tensed, urging him not to move as his eyes flicked back to watch Maxima: watch her terrible wrath.

Dimitri’s hair prickled as he witnessed Maxima do what he had never seen her do before. For the first time in the entirety of him knowing her, she backed off, her posture settling. She sighed, yet with no cruelty in the sound, and Dimitri tensed again as she approached, but more in confusion than fear. She paid him no attention as she lowed so close to him to shush Ariel and tuck him in again, and she did not even glance his way as she made for the bed. She blew out the candle and crawled under the covers, her back turned to him as she left him standing there without another word. The room now completely dark, Dimitri waited for a few long moments before slowly moving towards the bed, the chill now like the rain that had soaked him before.

Dimitri laid in the bed beside her, but she did not acknowledge his presence. She remained as she was, face turned away, and Dimitri could only stare at the dark shadow of her back under the blankets. He ached to speak with her, to tell her that he loved her, at least, but the fear that she would not respond and what that meant hushed any of his words. Body weary from his journey, and his heart sore, Dimitri closed his eyes and tried not to let his old emotions surface: the thoughts that made him feel that yes… he deserved this.

.

One thing Dimitri admired about Maxima was her refusal to keep up appearances. She was frank about how she felt, never concealing or scheming like nobles seemed to tend to. She hated formalities, in the sense that they detracted from the purpose of a conversation, and she never bent to the will of what the castle attendants or advisors expected of her. Her fearsome aura was enough to shake anyone down, and Dimitri always found his heart filled with love whenever she sat beside him during meetings so fiercely.

Now, he saw her willingness to express any frustration fall against his favor. Dimitri awoke to Maxima having risen before him and taken Ariel off somewhere, and it did not take long upon entering the castle proper for him to realize that everyone knew she was upset with him. The attendants either whispered together or watched him soulfully, and even Dedue appeared unsettled as he gave Dimitri a list of daily tasks while clearing his throat constantly. Dimitri did not know if the reaction was because the attendants truly cared for his wellbeing, or that there had not been a queen in the kingdom since his paternal grandmother and they did not know how to understand the division. His mother and step-mother had merely been consorts, and there was no political drama with that: no wondering about the state of the kingdom if they and his father disagreed, no far-reaching tension that created discomfort. Even so, Dimitri made no move to answer questions or kind gestures that were not offered, and he tried to continue his day like nothing was amiss.

However, there was something awry, in the deepest and most painful part of him. After the birth of their son, Maxima had not assisted him in his work as often as she had before, but his whole body still ached and missed her presence beside him. Her absence filled his thoughts with harsh emotions—ones he thought to have accepted and diminished long ago. Dimitri had never fathomed Maxima leaving him, but he entertained the thought now. He imagined her taking a horse and meeting her brother’s carriage on his journey to Fhirdiad, and how with a few short words she could have him turn back to Garreg Mach with her and never see Dimitri again. For the sake of the kingdom, she could retire to any corner of the castle and ignore him forever, or she could use all of her cunning and mercenary skills and slip out of the castle into a new life without him, with Ariel alone _._ Maybe she kept her maiden name because she had no desire to be part of his family at all, especially when he encouraged her to carry Ariel to term when she wondered if it was too early for children. Dimitri clenched his teeth and covered his ears at the thought, praying that the voices around him telling him these things would _stop._

Regulus and Flayn arrived at the castle before dinner, just in time for tea. Dimitri welcomed them into the grand drawing room, and to his first relief Maxima appeared as well. She had Ariel with her in a sling, and she wore her normal clothing, but Dimitri made no comment as she kissed her hellos and sat pointedly away from him. The day too hot for a fire and the draperies open, he could only watch as their billowing in the wind cast odd shadows over her, like gossamer dragon wings rhythmically rising and collapsing. Maxima did not look at him.

Dimitri’s heart clenched, and he stared at the tray of tea and treats dejectedly. Across the room, Regulus made note of the exchange, but he merely sipped tea as Flayn reached out her arms from beside him, smiling.

“May I see the little prince?”

Sitting closer to that side, Maxima only had to shuffle over on the couch to hand Ariel to Flayn. Just over a month old, he had filled into his soft features, and he could watch Flayn as she talked to him and brushed his cheek. Flayn held his face close to hers, cooing, and Maxima watched them, leaning against the couch side with her head propped against her arm. Again, Dimitri felt the urge to speak to her, but he crushed the compulsion as Flayn hummed and spoke.

“Such a precious boy!” Flayn admired, and she fluffed a finger through the light hairs on his head. “Do you think he will stay blonde?”

“Perhaps,” Maxima replied. “Like Father was.”

Her dismissal pinched Dimitri’s insides, enough that he almost felt nauseous. Dimitri made no outward sign, but Regulus still lowered his cup to look towards Maxima sharply, even as Maxima scowled at his expression and Flayn continued cooing.

“Or, like _his_ father,” Flayn added, unaware. “With blue eyes like winter twilight.”

Maxima straightened, briefly, with movement enough that Dimitri noticed her eyes soften. Strong affection gripped his heart, even as he stared longingly at Maxima steeling her face again. He reflected how during the war they would tear at each other like the “beasts” he compared to himself, and that whenever he pushed her away with harsh words, she would push back tenfold, meaner than he ever was. They never fought physically, at least in anger, but the intensity of their screaming and volatile arguments was enough that no one dared to break them apart: it would be like trying to separate dueling lions, and no one wanted to risk losing a hand in that fight. That state of his life was not so long ago, but Dimitri still wondered how at the end of it all, he felt closer to her than ever, and she remained faithfully by his side. It made him remember how during his boyhood at Garreg Mach that he would see her from afar and considered what it would be like to love her, to have her see his every fault and still kiss his face with tenderness. Then, it had been merely a fanciful dream to indulge, but now, at its reality, he wanted nothing more for her to again kiss him with all the love she had in her heart.

What was this? When they had screamed at each other, it had almost been easier, because then they could both lose in disagreement. Now, they both had to agree, and that was almost too daunting to even fathom.

Dimitri dismissed his thoughts as Ariel began to cry. Flayn pulled her face back from his, mouth agape and eyes wide.

“Oh, dear!”

Surprisingly, she did not pass Ariel back to Maxima, but instead crossed the room to Dimitri. She thrust Ariel into his arms almost frantically before hurrying to sit back down, taking up her teacup in his stead. Ariel continued to cry, but after being separated from him most of the day, Dimitri found he did not mind. He still felt Maxima’s haughty aura, her eyes cutting into him, but for now he focused his attention on Ariel. Dimitri held him close and rocked him gently, hushing the harsh undertone of his voice to a whisper.

“Ease, my little love, ease…”

Dimitri did as he saw Maxima do and exposed the skin of his neck to lay Ariel near it. On the side of his bad eye, Dimitri could only hear Ariel quell slightly. Dimitri felt the unsure wiggling before Ariel wormed a fist in his mouth, and for some reason the wave of affection from that caused Dimitri to look towards Maxima, meeting her gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

Maxima stiffened, almost startled. Flayn half-choked in her tea, quickly placing her cup down before she spilled.

“Lord Dimitri—you’re sorry?”

Maxima frowned. She tossed her head away and huffed, crossing both her arms and her legs.

“As he should be. I am very upset with him.”

Flayn put both hands on her face, cheeks flushing and eyes frightened.

She spoke quietly, “Lady Maxima and Lord Dimitri… had a fight?”

Regulus nodded once, as he had inferred as much. Maxima huffed again and looked back to Dimitri, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” she answered. “He left to engage in a battle of bandits with Sylvain, and he returned with an injury. Not only did he leave without telling me, but he had the utter _gall_ to say he was right because I would have done the same in his place.”

Dimitri wanted to be angry, but he found he did not have the heart to. Had he burned through all his hatred long ago?

“Father and Regulus do not fight,” Flayn returned to that, but Regulus shook his head. “Wait—you _do?”_

Regulus nodded once. He set down his teacup to sign.

_[Normal, but unpleasant.]_

Flayn gasped, but Maxima just continued to scowl. She kept their eyes locked, and Dimitri knew she was challenging him, but Dimitri was not going to scream at her and make it easy like he used to. Dimitri expected another argument was not what she wanted, and he frankly was not in the mood for one, either. He was tired of them.

“I did not wish to speak for your emotions,” Dimitri began. “And I _despised_ departing without informing you. When I left, I thought only of Sylvain needing my aid. I did not consider the risk of not returning, or your new concerns, and I realize now that was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Maxima remained firm, like she expected more. Regulus spoke.

“Maxima.”

His voice sounded like Maxima’s, only with a smoother edge and softer delivery. Dimitri’s wonder only increased as he watched Maxima again ease, sighing as she uncrossed her arms and relaxed into the couch. She glanced at her untouched tea before looking back to Dimitri, her expression now warm.

“I lost my father, and it was the worst experience of my life. I don’t want Ariel to lose his father, too.”

Dimitri’s throat tightened. He knew her position all too well. Maxima rubbed up one arm, looking forlorn and sorry herself.

“And… _I_ don’t want to lose you. After everything, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Her voice hushed to almost a whisper, and Dimitri’s chest filled with warmth near to bursting before Maxima straightened again and spoke plainly.

“I don’t expect you never to go into battle again, just as you don’t expect me to. I just want you to be more careful. Not every battle has to be your own. Calling yourself a weapon, it… it worries me that you still hate yourself, like you did before.”

Maxima inched closer to him, eyes shining. Dimitri felt as if Flayn and Regulus dissolved to leave him only there with her and Ariel: yes, his little family that loved him so dearly. Maxima reached out to him, and Dimitri clasped their hands, hoping it communicated something of all the joy and adoration he felt.

“Of course, my beloved, of course… I love you.”

Maxima rarely smiled, and when she did, it felt like the glory of the sun. Dimitri felt it now as her lips upturned, just the slightest, at him and him alone.

“I love you too, Dimitri.”

All the pain within him finally released. Dimitri could only stare, smitten, as Regulus hummed across the room, nodding. Flayn looked between him and the joined pair with question, but Regulus had nothing to say. He simply sipped his tea, content that the division had been mended.


End file.
